


Bring Me My Redemption

by Mischief11



Series: Worlds Will Collide [2]
Category: Marco Polo (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing scene from the ending of 1x5, smutty reference to prt 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischief11/pseuds/Mischief11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco returns to his rooms after he carried out the punishment on his father and uncle and breaks down. Luckily Byamba is there to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me My Redemption

No matter how hard Marco tried he could not find the comfort to fall sleep. The soreness in his body from when he gave himself to Byamba or the slight throbbing from the bite mark on his neck failed to arouse the warm and fuzzy feeling he carried until he was kneeling before the Khan. The soft sheets under his body did not drive away the memory of the branding rod in his hand. The coolness in the air failed to brush away the memory of the heat from the fire. The incense Marco lit before falling into bed could not chase the smell of burning flesh from his nose or the taste of smoke on his tongue. Gently singing the lullaby Marco had picked up from his mother could not overcome the ringing left by the screaming of his father and uncle as they were branded. No matter how hard Marco squeezed his eyes shut it failed to drive way the vision of seeing his father broken, trembling in pain, and staring up at him with eyes filled with horror and betrayal. The worst part of it all was having to turn his back on his family who _he_ had _branded_ to follow the Khan out of the dungeon where he was released back to his quarters. There was nothing in the world that will ever make him feel as low as he did tonight.

There was a knock on his door but he lacked the strength to get up and answer. Marco burrowed deeper into the sheets as the knocking started up again but louder. ‘Please, couldn’t the world leave me alone tonight?’ As if the person at the door could hear his silent pleas the knocking stopped leaving Marco to his shame and guilt. What did his father think of him? Was he angry? Ashamed? Did he realize that Marco did it to save his life? And his uncle who never cared much for him would surely hate him now. Marco has certainly lost the last of his family partly due to their own greed. The door to his room slowly slid opened and the floor slightly creaked with heavy footsteps as the uninvited visitor approached the bed. Marco did not dare look over his shoulder in fear of seeing the Khan standing above him his face full of dark retribution and hard earned mercy.

“Please, leave me. I cannot take anymore tonight.” The visitor did not respond but after a minute or two Marco heard shuffling followed by two hard thumps and heavy cloth falling onto his desk. Confused and angry at the intrusion Marco threw off the covers and turned to face his unwanted guest with Latin curse words on his tongue but they died a quick death when he saw his visitor.

Byamba pulled his shirt off and placed it with the rest of his clothes before turning back to the bed and climbed on it. Automatically shuffling backwards to give his lover more room Marco curled against the wall not looking away from the Mongolian. Without saying a word Byamba rearranged the pillows before stretching out on the bed facing Marco and leaving his arms out in a quiet invitation. A part of Marco wanted to ignore his lover, to turn his back to him and crawl back into a ball and forget the last few days even happened. He wanted to scream at his father and the Khan about what they put him through and claw at Byamba for not knowing his pain. Marco wished that his lover would pounce on him, ripping off clothes and burying nails and teeth into his skin, to roll him onto his stomach and rut into him until Marco has no more room in his body for memory or guilt. The rest of him simply wanted to bury his head into Byamba’s neck and feel long fingers loss themselves in his hair as his lover’s heartbeat rang his ear.

“Come here.” Byamba commanded in a low voice that left Marco powerless to disobey. Without saying anything Marco uncurled from his position and crawled over the bed into his lover’s arms. Once Marco was settled in his arms Byamba tightened his hold until the Latin doubted he could break free even if he tried. Marco laid there as the silence settled around him and guilt started to claw into his heart. Trying to fight back tears to avoid looking weak Marco sniffed quietly but somehow Byamba seemed to know.

“It was a hard thing you had to do. Let go of your tears, sweet one.” Byamba assured him as a hand started petting Marco’s curls. “You will find no judgement here.” To his embarrassment Marco could feel tears fill and spill from his eyes as his pain over took him until he was clinging to Byamba’s arms and sobbing as though his shoulders were not enough to no longer bear all the burdens his father placed upon them. Through all the tears Byamba comforted Marco not with words but with just holding him tight and running his hands through his hair. Marco lost track of time as his tears slowly started to dry and the feelings of shame and guilt started to give way to making him feel lighter. Byamba shifted slightly and the hand left his curls as the Mongolian reached over for something in his pile of clothes which turned out to be a strip of cloth which he used to wipe Marco’s face. Once Byamba was satisfied with his work he returned the cloth to the pile of clothes and reached down to peck Marco on the forehead.

“Feeling better?” Byamba asked in a soothing voice.

Now that he had finished his crying spell Marco looked up after the kiss and saw only care and concern in Byamba’s eyes. He could not see a hint of disgust nor judgement and his arms cradling Marco made him feel protected and cared about. He knew that Byamba would never put him in danger or sell him like two pounds of spice. Laying in the dark with his lover left Marco feeling like no one could possibly hurt him and the memory of the punishment he dealt was far from his mind. The slight smell of fur and soup that clung to Byamba’s skin chased away the smell of cooking flesh that had been plaguing his nose. The feelings of shame and guilt seemed far away leaving Marco feeling cherished and light hearted. The kind of cherished and light hearted emotions his mother made him feel, his aunt tried to provide, his father failed to accomplish and that Byamba so easily replicated.

“Yes,” Marco replied his voice slightly off from his crying spell. “I feel much better.”

Byamba leaned down and gave Marco a slow and deep kiss that made his toes curl in delight before pulling away and tucking Marco’s head under his chin. The silence settled in once more and lured the lovers holding onto each other into a deep sleep.


End file.
